Our Memorial Day weekend was the bee's knees. It was peaceful and fun and delicious. There was shopping and hanging out downtown and baking and thunderstorms (apparently Matt and I were the only two people in Savannah who didn't know that there was a tropical storm coming). We even got super ambitious and had friends over for dinner! And I made a cake! And I ellipted twice! What, what?!
We also celebrated 9 weeks with Charles. Nine loooong weeks. Two months down, y’all!
And I am so happy to report that month two was worlds better than month one. WORLDS.
Month one had its high points, sure, but it also had its looooooooow moments. There were the first couple of weeks when our sweet babe tricked us by pretending to be a little angel who never cried and slept all the time and cooed and cuddled and wasn't a demanding freak show. Then there was the day when he ate 14 times (for like an hour+ a pop!) and I started to lose my mind. For real.
Lost.
Mind.
Gone.
It got to the point where I was ugly crying all the time, and at first Matt and I thought it was just a funk, but then I just couldn't snap out of it. And apparently you're not supposed to have "I hate my life" meltdowns several times a day, and your face isn't supposed to be permanently puffy from ugly crying. And you're not supposed to, when your husband asks if you need anything as your ass is planted on the couch for 10 hours a day feeding the tapeworm baby, request a time machine so that you can either go forward a year or backward a year. Well, shoot. While I'd never really expected to love the newborn part of child rearing, I never imagined that it'd send me into the awful emotional black hole that it did. I totally had (have?) postpartum depression, the ol' PPD. So I went to my trusty OB and got myself a diagnosis and some pillz. Magic happy pillz that Matt affectionately refers to as "Mommy's Little Helper."
I kind of hate that I wasn't strong enough during those low points to pull myself out on my own. I mean, I'm the girl who can cure herself of the hiccups by just thinking about them (read: I have a very strong brain), so I hated to admit that I couldn't take care of it without drugs. But I hated feeling the way I was feeling way more than I hated the fact that I couldn't just snap out of it. And I hated that I was so incredibly miserable during a time that is supposed to be special, and I didn't want to look back on this period of my life and shudder. And I certainly didn't want to get to the point where I was going to hurt anyone. So pillz it was (and is, until summer, when I will wean myself from them hopefully).
And, per the recommendation by Ann, I went to see the lactation consultant at the hospital who helped me to fix my breastfeeding technique so that Charlie now eats much more quickly and in a way that does not make me feel like my boobs are about to fall off. So those are a couple of reasons that this month was better. Also, little Charlie is becoming much more interesting and fun. I mean, he's still basically a parasite (albeit the cutest parasite you ever did see), but now he smiles and coos and watches his dinosaurs and will actually let us put him down sometimes without screaming like a banshee. So that's good.
There are some moms I know who are sad when they see that their little baby is getting bigger and wish those baby moments could just last forever. I am not one of those moms. At risk of sounding like a "grass is always greener" jerk, I just can't wait for him to start doing more stuff, to see who he's going to be, to hear his laugh and see him talk and walk. Ridiculous though it may seem, the only thing that really saddens me about Charlie getting older is that he's growing out of some of his clothes, and I will be really sad to have to put them away. I'm pretty sure that makes me a horrible mother, but OMG those outfits are just so cute!
I only have 8 more school days until summer break (pretty good timing, eh?), and this last month has been so great that I'm actually excited to be back home with all of my favorite boys. Here's hoping that our months just get better and better from here!
Want to see a bajillion pictures of Charlie set to the tunes of UB40? Okay!
***Charlie, if you're reading this far, far in the future. I love you so much. You know I do. But you broke my body and you made me cry all the time. Now go get Mommy the remote and pour her a glass of wine.***
Lost.
Mind.
Gone.
It got to the point where I was ugly crying all the time, and at first Matt and I thought it was just a funk, but then I just couldn't snap out of it. And apparently you're not supposed to have "I hate my life" meltdowns several times a day, and your face isn't supposed to be permanently puffy from ugly crying. And you're not supposed to, when your husband asks if you need anything as your ass is planted on the couch for 10 hours a day feeding the tapeworm baby, request a time machine so that you can either go forward a year or backward a year. Well, shoot. While I'd never really expected to love the newborn part of child rearing, I never imagined that it'd send me into the awful emotional black hole that it did. I totally had (have?) postpartum depression, the ol' PPD. So I went to my trusty OB and got myself a diagnosis and some pillz. Magic happy pillz that Matt affectionately refers to as "Mommy's Little Helper."
I kind of hate that I wasn't strong enough during those low points to pull myself out on my own. I mean, I'm the girl who can cure herself of the hiccups by just thinking about them (read: I have a very strong brain), so I hated to admit that I couldn't take care of it without drugs. But I hated feeling the way I was feeling way more than I hated the fact that I couldn't just snap out of it. And I hated that I was so incredibly miserable during a time that is supposed to be special, and I didn't want to look back on this period of my life and shudder. And I certainly didn't want to get to the point where I was going to hurt anyone. So pillz it was (and is, until summer, when I will wean myself from them hopefully).
And, per the recommendation by Ann, I went to see the lactation consultant at the hospital who helped me to fix my breastfeeding technique so that Charlie now eats much more quickly and in a way that does not make me feel like my boobs are about to fall off. So those are a couple of reasons that this month was better. Also, little Charlie is becoming much more interesting and fun. I mean, he's still basically a parasite (albeit the cutest parasite you ever did see), but now he smiles and coos and watches his dinosaurs and will actually let us put him down sometimes without screaming like a banshee. So that's good.
There are some moms I know who are sad when they see that their little baby is getting bigger and wish those baby moments could just last forever. I am not one of those moms. At risk of sounding like a "grass is always greener" jerk, I just can't wait for him to start doing more stuff, to see who he's going to be, to hear his laugh and see him talk and walk. Ridiculous though it may seem, the only thing that really saddens me about Charlie getting older is that he's growing out of some of his clothes, and I will be really sad to have to put them away. I'm pretty sure that makes me a horrible mother, but OMG those outfits are just so cute!
I only have 8 more school days until summer break (pretty good timing, eh?), and this last month has been so great that I'm actually excited to be back home with all of my favorite boys. Here's hoping that our months just get better and better from here!
Want to see a bajillion pictures of Charlie set to the tunes of UB40? Okay!
***Charlie, if you're reading this far, far in the future. I love you so much. You know I do. But you broke my body and you made me cry all the time. Now go get Mommy the remote and pour her a glass of wine.***
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oh Mandy, I am so sorry that you all went thru all that!! Kudos for realizing that you needed help!! I am so glad that things are smoothing out. it really does get better. And your little guy is one of the cuter babies that I've seen in awhile!!!
ReplyDeleteHappy two months, young Charles! You're the cutest. We can't wait to watch you grow, sweet nephew.
ReplyDelete